Contradictions
by moonlightonmalfoymanor
Summary: "Do you know that feeling of being completely still?" An experimental story that is not really a story, or is it? Oneshot


AN: This is an experiment, so I'd very much like to hear what you think. It was written with Luna in mind, but my Luna is someone who, while she may be unusual, has a full understanding of the world. She is strange, but definitely not insane. However, she can be substituted with whomever you might prefer, as this is not even really a story about magic, beyond the magic of life. Come to that, it is not even really a story…

_o-O*0*O-o_

The world is full of contradictions. Do you know that feeling of being completely still? Your mind is blank and you could easily spend the entire afternoon just sitting and staring at the wall. Below the still surface, a maelstrom is brewing. Something is waiting to happen, to burst out of you and change you, but on the surface, you're still. I've been feeling like that quite a bit lately, I'm changing, being changed and I don't know what the end result will be. The world is full of contradictions, because the more I change, the more often I feel still. And because I feel still now, I feel the urge to tell you this. I don't yet know what 'this' will be, or where this story will end. It doesn't matter, I am rambling for the sake of my stillness. Does that make sense to you? I don't know if it does to me, I only know that it is true, and that is enough.

I do not know what will happen to me, or how I will end up. I do not even know if there is such a thing as 'ending up'. It wouldn't surprise me if there is no end. "The only constant is change." I don't think anything can surprise me any more, and I say that in the full knowledge that I have lately seen a lot of things that surprised me and that there will be more to come. Contradictions, indeed. They have been good surprises though. The fact that a 'good surprise' is no longer a contradiction in and of itself is a surprise too, I suppose. The world is full of evolution too.

Does it surprise you when I say that I'm actually not good at rambling? I need to know what I'm going to do and how I'm going to do it, where I'll start, and where I'll end. And now I feel the urge to replace 'need' in the previous sentence with 'prefer'. I really am changing. We've already established that there probably is no end, and even if there is, I don't know it. So what about the beginning? Honestly? I don't know for sure about that one either. If the only constant is change, I suppose there was no starting point either. Deep, isn't it? The beginning of me, perhaps? When was that? I could very easily go back centuries, long before I was born, and yet start at my beginning. Or was that even longer still? Contradictions. Life is full of them, and there is so much more to life than life alone. So let's not go back quite so far. The beginning of me, this time, then? No, that's not right, it disturbs my stillness. So if that's not really me, when did I become me?

I suppose it starts with you. You gave me stillness. You took down my walls and gave me 'me' in return. I broke your barriers and showed you who you might become. You showed me how empty I still was, and filled the emptiness for me. You gave me acceptance, I gave you trust. Do not mistake this story for a romance, dear reader, this was never supposed to be that, and that is the beauty of it. The only constant is change, but it seems that we can remain constant through all the change. You break my rules, be they self-imposed or merely habit, you are, at this moment, the epitome of change, and I have faith that you will remain the constant it seems you have always been. What would life be without contradictions?

It starts with you, as, I suppose, it has done many times. Does it start with me? I hope not, not entirely at least, as I have faith it will not start entirely with you. This is not a love story, after all, but who knows what change has in store for me? And even if it were, that should not be a start in its entirety either.

I told you, dear reader, that I did not know where this story would end. What a silly thing to say. This is no story, and thus it has no end. This is an assortment of ramblings, originating from the point of contact between the stillness and the maelstrom. My stillness? Or yours? I do not know. At least not beyond the fact that it is inconsequential. That goes for the maelstrom too. That has been set in motion, although it does not really have a start, as it was always there. And it, as everything, will change, and it will change me. And I? I will be still.


End file.
